


Don’t Quit Your Day Job (but please, by god, quit your night one)

by spideys_ass



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (kinda), Age Difference, Anal Sex, Escort Service, Identity Reveal, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Underage Prostitution, basically peter is a hooker in a spiderman suit, this was supposed to be a pwp but it got away from me and now there’s emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:00:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24951958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spideys_ass/pseuds/spideys_ass
Summary: Peter has a new job that leads him right to Tony’s door, without either of them realising it... at first.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 16
Kudos: 143





	Don’t Quit Your Day Job (but please, by god, quit your night one)

**Author's Note:**

> There’s this new themed prostitution ring that’s gaining traction in Manhattan. The so-called “theme”? Spider-Man, of course. And Peter already has so much experience stripping and putting on the suit in alleyways, so, perfect job, right?

Peter strode towards the tallest skyscraper in front of him, speeding up when it began to sprinkle. He carried an umbrella in his hand, but even so, he couldn’t risk getting the suit very wet. That just wasn’t sexy. 

He began to run in the dark, as the wind and rain picked up, and only took a breath once he was outside Stark Tower under the covering. Stark Tower. Wow. He’d only barely gotten over being there as Spider-Man, and well, it was unbelievable to him that _this_ job could’ve brought him there. He didn’t know who would be requesting services like his at the tower, but their bosses probably wouldn’t be too happy to hear about it. Not that Peter was going to tattle. He needed the money, and it was, good money. Plus, it was probably just some girl or guy who was overextending themselves at work this late at night (or more accurately, early in the morning) and needed Peter to unwind. Whatever. He wasn’t thinking too much into it. Definitely not. Definitely not wondering what Tony Stark would think if he heard one of his employees was fucking prostitutes in his own building. No. 

Peter’s inner voice scoffed, but he was too busy scanning the building to engage in his inner turmoil once more. He was going to do this. He was going to enter Stark tower, not as Spider-Man, not as Peter, but under the cover of his agency. 

People passed him by, and one knocked into him, causing him to drop the umbrella on the ground. He winced, bending down to pick it up. He couldn’t exactly bring it inside could he? No, that would be even more not sexy. 

He strolled to the nearby trash bin, deposited it, and walked through the glass doors that opened for him. He headed for the receptionist desk, towards Aubrey, and thought of all the times she’d smiled at him and waved him up, in his Stark-made multi-million dollar suit, but now she just pursed her lips at him, obviously unhappy at the sight of a boy in a knock-off suit.

“Um...” A poor start. “Hi, uh, I’m supposed to go to 83A?” Cringe. “I wasn’t given an access code or anything.” He quickly added. Shit... did he need one? He really should have talked this over more with his boss before accepting it, but he’d said it was a rush, and that Peter best fit the client’s description. His boss had refused to provide any information, claiming the client wanted to talk business directly, with Peter. He didn’t know how to feel about that.

Aubrey expression softened at his words, probably hearing his age even through the knock-off mask. She sighed, “Alright hun, here,” She trailed off, opening a drawer, pulling out a red card, and scanning it, before holding it out to him. “This’ll get you up there. Leave it with him on your way out.” 

Peter nodded, taking the keycard. _Him_ reverberated in his mind. So it was decided, he was going to be fucked tonight, most likely. 

Inside the elevator, Peter scanned the buttons on the wall, from below the building all the way to level 93, which he knew to be the highest story. He quickly scanned his card, and pressed 83. The elevator was fast, and within seconds he’d already gone up ten stories. It wouldn’t take him long to get up to the 83rd level. 

He let himself imagine what it must be like to be on the very top floor, on the 93, the view Tony Stark must have every day. He’d never been to the 93rd story, but he’d been to the 90th with Tony countless times in his private lab. 

Peter checked the monitor, telling him he was now on the 68th floor. Now that he thought about it, he’d also been to the 80th, for some kind of Avenger/Superhero party that higher ups thought would be good for networking, or er... something like that, apparently. That was the only party of Tony’s he’d ever been to, and Tony kept teasing him he’d have to be 21 to come, but eventually brought that number down to 18 after Peter’s nagging. That was frustrating, he’d miss Tony’s birthday by only a couple months. Peter remembered pouting about that fact to Tony on the way out of the lab on the 90th floor, passing by other scientist employees of Tony’s, who shared that floor and had all of the top ten floors for scientific research. 

Wait— if Stark Tower had 93 stories, and the top ten were for research then that would make the 83rd the—

Peter’s eyes widened only enough in time for the elevator doors to open. He stepped out, and took in his surroundings. It definitely was not a bunch of offices and labs— No, this was a living space.

The elevator doors behind him closed and that’s when the panic set in. He turned— heart racing, to the door, but the lift was clearly gone. He stiffened behind him when he heard footsteps. 

“Leaving already?” The voice behind him asked. 

Tony Stark. Tony _fucking_ Stark was behind Peter, caught him on duty. Peter was scared to turn around but his feet conspired against him. 

“I’m—“ 

“Tony Stark.” Peter breathed out. 

It only made Tony smirk and walk closer to him. “The one and only. What are you, a fan?”

Peter swallowed a whimper. He wasn’t supposed to be the one flustered, he was the one that was supposed to be all-knowing and reassuring, but here he was in front of Tony Stark, and his Peter Parker was bleeding through. He had to steady himself. “You could say that, sir,” He spoke the words even more erotically, but also tried to change his voice. “Now what would you like today?” Peter surged forward, forcing himself into his usual role he’s played the last five times. He pressed his hand to the man’s chest, brought it up to his neck— 

Before his wrist was taken hostage by Tony. “Hold up, kid.”

“I’m not a kid!” Peter whined, catching himself too late. He was acting like Peter, not like a prostitute dressed as Spider-Man.

“See you said that, but you also said it while really sounding like a kid, kid.” Tony smirked and dropped his wrist, and Peter huffed, crossing his arms. “Y’know, you’re kinda bratty, I kinda like it, I might pay more for that.” He narrowed his eyes at Peter, as if to say ‘your move’. 

“My uh, my boss deals with my pay.” He let his arms fall to the side. Shit, he thought. This was for real, Tony Stark hired him for sex. Wait... why was Tony Stark hiring a Spider-Man lookalike in the first place?

“Yeah, not this time. God, you’re new aren’t you? I’m paying you. Now, haggle me.” He motioned towards himself.

“Um...” Haggle him? Like at a market? “I usually get paid 200 to 300 dollars an hour.”

Tony just laughed. “They really don’t make ‘em like they do in Vegas,” He said, more to himself. “You’re cute, kid, easily worth at least 1,500 an hour.” 

Peter gaped, his chin dropping only barely able to be seen, but Tony was watching him like a hawk. “That’s it, you’re not gonna try for more?”

The kid gulped, and shook his head no. 

“Okay.” Tony looked surprised. “So that’s settled.” He reached around, pressing a hand to Peter’s back, as he had many times when Peter was Peter. “Now, come here,” Tony said, in a quieter voice and, holy shit, this was happening. 

Tony led him through a doorway that opened up into a beautiful master bedroom, only slightly bigger than most, and in the middle of the room, against the wall lay a king sized bed, clearly big enough for multiple people. His past five clients only had a queen sized, at most. A couple times Peter didn’t even get the bed experience. 

Tony led him to the bed, cornered him against it, and Peter’s back pressed against the edge of the mattress. Peter’s mind was a blender, Tony Stark pushed him back by his shoulders, onto the giant plush bed. 

Peter used his elbows to propel himself back, fully climbing onto the bed, and Tony followed him, climbing over his body and looking so dominant, and lustful, Peter couldn’t help but whimper at the sight. Both of the man’s hands were on either side of Peter’s face, and he felt so, so small. 

Then Tony pulled one hand to unbuckle his belt, and Peter snapped out of it. Tony Stark wasn’t fucking Peter Parker, he was fucking a prostitute in a spider-man suit. He shivered. Remember the role, he thought to himself, even as Tony’s pants came down and he pulled them off, tossing them somewhere behind the bed. 

Peter watched as Tony’s right hand disappeared under the band of his boxers, and braced himself as it emerged with his cock. He tried to make his brain function, as it is supposed to, to start calculating his client’s needs, to understand that, hey! Tony Stark is pulling his cock out, but not naked, he probably wants a blow job! So do something about that! 

Peter swallowed, a hand hesitantly coming up to bring the bottom fold of his shitty spandex mask to his nose. 

Tony grabbed his wrist, _again_ , and that was a good feeling for Peter, he felt so helpless in the man’s grasp.

“Don’t.” Tony growled out the word, tone making Peter’s eyes widen. “Don’t lift that mask up any more than that.”

And boy oh boy, was Peter glad for that request, cause he sure wasn’t planning to. He licked his lips, moistening them, and glanced back at Tony’s cock, hungrily, timidly. He wasn’t the longest of Peter’s last four male clients, but he was by far the thickest, and Peter’s mouth would’ve watered right there given different circumstances. In all honesty, they were watering _even_ under these circumstances.

Peter’s lips parted subconsciously, and Tony took it as an okay to bring his cock nearer to the boy’s mouth, and Peter opened up, remembering all the instructions he’d been given when he began this job. ‘Never use teeth’ ‘Wrap you lips around your teeth as a precaution’ ‘Don’t just warm his cock, suck on it, like it’s the juiciest popsicle you’ve ever tasted’ ‘roll your eyes back like you’re in pleasure— they find it sexy’ ‘use your fingers to stimulate the base’. (Really, Gwen invested too much in his job). Most of it which Peter followed, hollowing his cheeks, and bringing a wrist, still trapped in Tony’s hand, to the sides of that girthy cock. 

“Shit, shit, kid.” Tony moaned, and yes, Peter Parker made Tony Stark moan. He flinched as he felt Tony’s hands on the back of his mask, holding him there. “What... what color hair do you have?” Tony asked of him, and really, did the man expect him to answer with his cock in his mouth? Instead Peter deepthraoted him, his gag reflex trained out of him, and he moaned around it, sending vibrations up throughout Tony’s erection, and the man continued the shudder throughout his body, his hand thrown back in pleasure. 

But then he pressed a finger to Peter’s lips, stilling him, and he pulled away from Peter’s mouth. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit. Was he not good enough? He’d tried to heed the advice— but he couldn’t exactly tell if he was doing anything correctly or not and— he had the mask on and therefore the bit about his eyes wouldn’t work— and _holy shit_ he should’ve been better for Mr. Stark. He should’ve made it the best blowjob the man ever had but he blew it— in both a literal and figurative way but—

“Kid, what color is your hair?” His eyes snapped up, meeting Tony’s, not that the other man could tell with the mask. 

He wanted to know what color hair he had? Peter was confused, and so out of it, but that must be the teenaged arousal. Surely there was some reason Peter was just, blind to at the moment. “B— brown.” 

And that was the moment Tony smiled, and the lustful glint in his eyes shone more than Peter’d ever seen it. God, Peter would be jerking off to that mental snapshot for days. 

“Mmm.” The man withdrew his fingers from Peter’s lips, and Peter ever so slightly stuck out his tongue, leaning forward, hesitantly tasting him. He didn’t know whether or not that was his ‘okay’ to continue or not, but he definitely didn’t want to act out of line or disobey Tony. 

Tony’s eyelids fluttered, his cock welcoming the heated tongue. “Keep going, kid.” 

Peter continued as he had before, opening his throat for entrance, but he felt Tony’s hands pull at the back of his mask, ripping it open, and he panicked, choking despite his training, in shock. He couldn’t have Tony find out it was him, the mask _had_ to stay on. He pulled away from Tony, his cock sliding from Peter’s mouth, bouncing up and hitting his own stomach with a wet smack. 

“Kid!” Tony reached out at him, like he was an animal to be tamed, like he didn’t know what to expect, and yeah, Peter supposed that may be appropriate from his side of things.

“My mask...” He heard the words fall from his lips, not even registering. 

Tony’s eyes were wide, fearful saucers, like he didn’t quite know what to do. “Your mask? It can stay on. Kid— I wasn’t,” He sighed. “I wasn’t going to take it off all the way, I was just pulling at your hair. And kid, I’m Tony Stark, I’ll cover the cost of the mask in a heartbeat, your boss wouldn’t have the balls to blame you.”

Peter swallowed, his breathing still somewhat laboured from the panic. “Right. Right, I’m sorry, Mr. Stark.” He scooted closer again to him, his hand resting on the man’s thigh, which slowly moved higher. “Let me make it up to you, Mr. Stark.” He’d gotten his voice and breathing back under control, his confidence mostly(?) restored. 

He opened his mouth, licking Tony’s cock head before taking into his mouth entirely again. Mr. Stark whimpered, letting a litany of curses fall from his lips. 

“Fuck, kid. So good, so good sucking my cock down. Yes,” He tilted his head back and moaned, his fingers entwining and pulling Peter’s hair. “Alright,” Mr. Stark pulled him by his hair away from his cock. “You did great, baby, so good.” And oh. Peter guessed it was time they were moving up a level. “Turn around, kid.” 

Peter felt Mr. Stark’s hands gently push at his shoulders, rolling him over on the huge bed. Peter brought his arms up, sprawled above his head, and he prepared to tangle his fingers in the sheets. 

Mr. Stark found the spot that disconnected the two piece suit, and slowly brought the bottom half down, exposing Peter’s smooth ass to the air. He pulled them down to about around his knees. Tony took the two cream coloured cheeks in his hands, softly caressing them, squeezing them, making Peter moan. He pulled his cheeks apart, and the cool air on his hole made him clench up. A sight Tony chuckled at. 

“So sensitive, baby?” From there he leaned down, and licked a stripe across his hole. Peter was frozen in disbelief. No way did he just have _Tony Stark_ lick his ass. Shit, if he wasn’t on a bed already, he probably would’ve swooned. He registered Tony moaning, from behind him, and felt his cheeks flame up. Tony borderline worshipping his body, giving unexpected attention to _certain_ parts of his body was definitely doing something to him. Something more than making him spurt a bit of precum. It was like Tony was giving his heart a hard-on, too.

Tony moved, leaving the bed, and for a moment the rush faded, before the weight behind him returned, with a wet finger teasing his rim. “Yes, yessss, please,” Peter moaned down into the sheets, releasing small whimpers and whines as Mr. Stark scissored him open. 

“God, you’re so tight, kid. Gonna feel so good on my cock.” His words only made Peter clench around his fingers, and the difference that made, _felt so good._

Soon enough, he was finally ready, fully stretched on Mr. Stark’s fingers, ready for his cock. “So pretty... so open for me...”

Peter whined. He could feel Mr. Stark’s cock head pierce his little ring of muscle, pushing at the walls as he slid in, ever so slowly, as to not hurt him, and make it as pleasant as possible. _Tony Stark’s cock was in his ass and life was complete._

It felt so good it felt so good it felt so good it— Mr. Stark was fully sheathed in his ass, balls deep, allowing him to get used to the sensation before moving, but Peter needed it _now._

The second Tony started to move, he broke, immediately babbling. “Yes, yes, Mr. Stark, please, _please,_ fuck me so good, need you, needed your cock so bad, needed it _since the first time I met you_ , needed it forever—“

Mr. Stark pulled out abruptly, leaving his hole gaping and needy. Peter whined, needing him to come back, what was he doing? When Peter turned his head, turned to look at Mr. Stark, the man had pulled back. Eyes wide, brows sky high, breath ragged... sitting on the opposite side of the bed, he looked like he’d seen a ghost.

“Kid—“ Tony chokes out. And oh, fuck. He’d— he’d been calling him kid all night, and yeah, Peter knew that, duh, it must be a common pet name Mr. Stark used for people or something— but, this, this had _recognition_ behind it, and nooo, Peter did not like that one bit.

Mr. Stark slowly crawled towards him, and the entire time, Peter’s skin felt like it was on fire, goosebumps standing at the ready. He had no idea what Tony was gonna do, was suspecting that he was starting to realise the truth about him, but didn’t know— isn’t certain, but he is definitely, assuredly, one hundred percent, scared shitless right now, his heart pounding hard enough to prove it. 

Mr. Stark’s hand reaches up, towards his face and—

“No.” _He was reaching towards his mask._ “No, don’t, please, Mr. Stark,” Peter’s voice broke, but it didn’t matter, because Tony pulled the mask off, and Peter didn’t stop him. 

“Peter.”

 _Nonononononono._ His face felt hot, itchy with the tears streaming down it, his hair disheveled. He knew he looked like an absolute mess, the opposite of what sexy, what a sex worker should look like. 

Mr. Stark’s eyes bored into his skull, and the intensity of his gaze, it— it hurt. Peter felt like he was burning alive. This was his _mentor_ , the man of his desires, looking down at him, with his mask off, pants down... fuck. Peter was experiencing so much inner turmoil his head hurt. 

He made the mistake of looking up, making eye contact for just a moment, and it made him snap. “Mr— Mr. Stark I’m so sorry I just got the call to come here and I didn’t know that it was you that was the client he just told me to come here and I was the best worker for the night and once I was up here yeah I probably should’ve told you cause no I know you’d like never want to have sex with me so I know I should’ve stopped but at that point I was already in here with you and I was so scared and I needed—“ 

“Slow down, slow down!” Tony rubbed a hand across his face and groaned. “Okay kid, pull your pants up and get comfortable. We’re talking about this.” As he spoke, he stood up from the bed, leaving the bedroom. 

“Wha— where are you going?” 

Tony paused, before fully exiting. “Relax. I’m gonna need a drink to have this conversation.” 

Fuck. Peter pulled up his spider pants, disregarding his hard, leaking cock, or trying to, at least. He wiped at his eyes and cheeks with the glove of the fake suit, drying them. There was no need for him to continue looking like a fool while in Tony Stark’s bed, he thought, while fixing his hair.

Wait. _Holy shit. He’s in Tony Stark’s bed._ All alone. And he shouldn’t like it— because _he did_ — but it made him feel privileged, to know that it’s a place many only wish they could be. He wouldn’t exactly say it’s a place not many have been because, well, everyone knows that would be a lie, but it’s a privilege all the same. And honestly, there have been fewer and fewer in recent years so— yeah. As much as he hates this predicament, he’s pretty special. 

_If only he was here as Peter Parker. Or even as Spider-Man._ Anything but a— a prostitute.

He looked up when Tony enters again, glass full in hand, and he gulped. He set it down on the nightstand, and sat on the bed. 

Tony scrubbed a hand down his face. “Okay, okay. Why?”

“... why?” Peter weakly echoed.

“Why did you ever do all...” Mr. Stark gestures to him, to the fake suit. “this. Is what I’m asking.” 

“Um. I needed a job, and other places wouldn’t hire me, ‘cause I’m too young.” Peter shifted his position, uncomfortable.

“God, fuck, you’re too young for a job and you think _this_ would...” Mr. Stark lifted his glass, kicking it all back in one go. “I would’ve hired you, Peter. We could’ve made the internship solid. You— you didn’t have to go down this... path.” 

Peter huffed. He was going to lecture him about going down wrong paths? Wasn’t that what the media accused Mr. Stark of doing all the time? And now he’s accusing it of him? “Rich, coming from the guy who just hired a hooker.” Peter felt his own eyes bulge. Holy shit, he _did not_ just talk back to Mr. Stark like that. Fuck, he’s in it now. 

Wait. The little mind worm from earlier crawled it’s way back to the front of his mind. Mr. Stark didn’t just hire some random sex worker. Mr. Stark hired a sex worker _dressed like Spider-Man_. And Mr. Stark didn’t just hire a sex worker who was dressed like Spider-Man, _he specifically provided a description that matched Peter’s._

He could see the shock of his back talk on Mr. Stark’s face, but also... was that fear?

He’s got to— he’s got to say it. He’s got to let—

“A Spider-Man hooker with my description.”

And that was it. Mr. Stark’s jaw clenched down _hard_ his eyes filling with something that looked... Peter couldn’t put his finger on it, but it looked kinda sad. 

“Peter... I—“

“Why?”

Mr. Stark looked down. “Because... being around you, is intoxicating. And I shouldn’t have these feelings towards you, but I do, and I can’t ever get you out of my mind. So I— I guess I was trying to give in, without, actually giving in...”

Guilt. That look in his eye was guilt? Peter scooted forward on the bed. Towards Tony. Was he really hearing what he thought he was hearing? Mr. Stark said he had “feelings” towards him? I mean, that can only mean one kind of feeling, right? Right? 

Peter reached forward, letting his hand gently reach out and rest on Tony’s knee, making the man jerk. “What kind of feelings, Mr. Stark?” He bit his lip, and looked up through his lashes, and fuck, he really hoped that it was coming off as sexy and endearing, rather than pathetic. But maybe it worked? ‘Cause Mr. Stark’s breathing hitched, and Peter could hear his heartbeat spike. 

Peter leaned forward, his face now much closer to Tony’s. He meant to pressure him, to get him to spit it out before Mr. Stark checks back in with reality and remembers that he’s the one that has traditionally had more power in this relationship, that it’s his penthouse, his bed, his money that had bought Peter’s time. But right then, Peter held the reigns. He gingerly brought his hand that wasn’t on Mr. Stark’s knee up to his face, and let it cup the side of Mr. Stark’s jaw. “What kinda of feelings, Mr. Stark?”

Tony’s bottom lip trembled, and he looked Peter in the eye. “Attraction... Love...” He averted his gaze. “Lust.” 

Peter swallowed. It was everything he was hoping for, but he expected Tony to make a move. He didn’t expect the man to be completely frozen with Peter basically in his lap. S— So, it was up to him, it’s up to Peter to make all his dreams a reality.

It’s intimidating, in every other sexual encounter, he’d been hired, and his clients had been more than happy to just _take_ , but now it was Peter who stretched forward, his breath mingling with Tony’s. Peter stared into those wide eyes and tilted his head slightly left, his lips every so slightly grazing Tony’s. _This is it._ Peter let his eyelids flutter shut as he pressed their lips together. He pulled away maybe, too soon? He didn’t know how long kisses were supposed to last, and he didn’t feel anything from Tony’s side of things, and, well, he didn’t exactly know what pop culture meant when they described people ‘deepening’ kisses. His eyes opened again, to see his own arousal reflected in Mr. Stark’s eyes. His gaze was burning, he looked at him like Peter was all he ever wanted and he—

His lips pressed again, harder than before, and— Oh. _That’s_ what’s meant by ‘deepening’ a kiss. Mr. Stark was pressing back, his mouth opening Peter’s, his tongue sliding against his bottom lip. Mr. Stark held him there, both of his hands on either side of Peter’s neck as he took control of the kiss. Peter’s heart did a little _flip flop_ , and is that what ‘butterflies in your stomach’ is supposed to mean? Because it definitely doesn’t feel like butterflies. It felt more like like his heart _dropped_ for Tony, and—

Mr. Stark pulled away, his hands sliding down from Peter’s neck to his chest, pushing him slightly back. “No, no, kid, we can’t.” Peter just looked at him, but the other man was looking down, staring at where his hands lay on Peter’s chest like he was petrified. 

“Mr. Stark, please,” Peter pulled his hand to his chest, intertwining it with one of Tony’s there. “I feel the same way, so please. I’ve wanted this forever...” He pushed against Tony’s hands on his chest, his cheek brushing the other’s. “Please... make us both happy.”

Mr. Stark snapped, his lips crashing down on Peter’s, and it was harsh and demanding, _and everything Peter wanted_. Peter whined into the kiss as Tony pressed his torso down against the mattress. 

Tony growled. “Clothes?” He pulled at the bottom of the fake spandex suit top. “Off.” Peter and Tony both rushed to remove the— offensive article, until Peter was naked and writhing, needy, under him.

“Mr. Stark, Mr. Stark, _please_ , I feel so empty, sir.” Peter whimpered, his cock aching against his stomach. Tony’s eyes darker with lust, and he spread apart Peter’s legs, checking his hole. 

“Still so open for me, such a good boy.” The lube was still slowly dripping out of him. “I can just fuck right back into you.”

Peter lifted his head up, watching Tony strip his layers, until the man was over top of him, arms on either side of Peter’s shoulders. Peter let his eyes fall shut as they kissed again. 

Tony reached between Peter’s legs, thumb ghosting over his hole, and Peter bent his knees, using his flexibility to present himself for him. The man grunted as he lined up his cock to that tight warmth, his cock head pushing at the rim once more. It was easier than the first time, Peter being more stretched out, and Mr. Stark thrust in and out, establishing a steady pace. 

Peter wrapped his legs around Tony, hugging him closer to him every time the man rammed his prostate. “Ah, ah, ah, Mr. Stark!”

Tony leaned down for a kiss, taking his lips hungrily as their bodies rocked together in time. _Slap, slap, slap._ “I love hearing my name on your lips, baby.” Mr. Stark kept placing wet, open mouth kissed trailing down neck. Peter was so far gone he couldn’t even think straight. 

“How many of these have you taken?” Tony asked. How many? How many— Oh. 

“T— Two, sir. But yours is the thickest.”

“Damn right, kid.”

“Mmhm... Mister...” His eyes rolled back in pleasure with another brutal slam against his prostate. “‘m so close.”

“Come, then.” The words were hot against Peter’s skin. “Come, baby, I know you can come for me, come, Peter, just let go.”

The building pressure in Peter finally released at those words, and he came all over his own stomach and chest. 

“So beautiful when you come, gorgeous...” Tony’s pelvis continued to slap against his ass, though slower and avoiding his prostate. He leaned down, kissing Peter a few times on the lips before grunting into his mouth. His stuttering hips stabilised, and he stayed snuggly in Peter while riding out his orgasm. “Peter,” Tony breathed out. Peter could feel the cum filling him up, making him feel so _full_ , specifically, of Tony, and that made him feel so secure. 

Peter whined when he pulled out, and whined some more when Tony slid off the bed. 

“Shh. I’ll be back in a second.” 

When Peter opened his eyes to a warm washcloth wiping at his stomach, he was met with the dopiest expression. Tony wiped at his raw hole as well, making Peter wince. “Tomorrow we’ll take a shower. I’ll clean you better.” 

Tony abandoned the now nasty wipe on the floor, and pulled at the bedsheets, signalling for Peter to get under them. Peter did, shuffling beneath them and curling up on his side, in his natural state, his eyelids fluttering shut. 

He felt Tony curl up behind him, spooning him, and it wasn’t a loose embrace either. It was a tight, dominating grasp and Peter had never felt safer. Not only safe, but small, kept, loved. 

“You’re quitting your job tomorrow. You’re going to start working for me as my personal intern, and I’m gonna start paying you.” 

There Tony goes again, trying to protect when he doesn’t need protecting. “Bu—“

“You don’t want to work with me in the lab every day?” Tony asked. And yeah, he had him. All he ever wanted to do was be with Tony. And, _duh_ , the lab was amazing. He truly had no argument. 

“Okay. And... us?” _What will happen with us? Is this a one time thing? Do you just want me once?_ His mind was filled with insecurities.

Tony slid his hand over Peter’s arm, reaching down to hold his hand. He kissed their intertwined fingers and then Peter’s temple. “I guess we’ll just have to stick around and see where this goes, kid.” 

Yeah, Peter content. That seemed alright. He was excited to see where this would go, too.

**Author's Note:**

> “And now I owe you about fourteen thousand dollars.” — Tony. 😂😂
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed, I’ve had this idea kinda like, forever, and finally did something about it! 
> 
> I finally finished it because of this server, https://discord.gg/hXYte8B which ships a bunch of different marvel ships, and it’s a lot of fun!


End file.
